This thing called Life.
What if life came in a clear package?
Most of the time, it would be the rich, thick burgundy of whole blood before an infusion, like this red delicious apple. Or between clear and straw-colored, like blood plasma. But occasionally it would be the color of Mama’s stem cells during her transplant, the freshest, most luscious vine-ripened tomato soup you could imagine, somewhere between my tote bag and my office chair. You stare at it hanging there on the stanchion, and you’re speechless because it looks so alive you could swear it’s moving all by itself rather than being urged by a machine. Watching Life flow into someone... I honestly cannot describe it.
What if life came inside wicker?
It would look like my engorged craft basket, of course. I finally took time to gather all the yarn from various bags and containers and leftover projects around the house, and put it all together to see what I was working with. I had NO idea there would be this much, folks. I love feeling yarn under my fingers as much as I do books, but what to do with all this? Make the relatives afghans for the holidays yet again? (OMG no) Open up a store? Make this monstrosity the villain of its own story, “The Yarn That Ate Atlanta”, and send it out on tour?
I pondered. Had an epiphany. Did research and came up with a game plan. Your dynastic one will be knitting as many under-helmet caps and off-duty slippers for our overseas troops as this basket of yarn will produce, then shipping ‘em out. Nothing says Life like an appreciative heart and a warm garment.
What if life were hot pink? (Don’t be like Middle Bro and ask do I mean Pepto Bismol)
It would look like our crepe myrtles that dumped pink snow drifts on everything early on, but are now happy to just look pretty. Come fall, the pink will be gone, as well as the green--the trees and bushes will be blazing gold. The circling seasons, the new becoming old and then new again... definitely that L word.
What if life were numbers?
Alternate Earth Fantasy Sequel WIP
Sci-Fi Adventure WIP
Dark Paranormal Romance WIP
Word counts. My characters living and breathing. Fighting, and surviving.
_______________
Familial Update: Eleven days out from the transplant, y’all, and we’re looking good. It’s no picnic--crazy swelling, darkened skin, flu-like symptoms, esophagitis (ouch!), lack of energy and appetite, nausea, fevers, a few transfusions, everything tasting like either cardboard, plaster, or somebody’s butt--but we did dodge two bullets. No hair loss. No mouth sores. (The church said Amen!) And the anti-nausea drugs work like a charm.
Mama’s counts have hit rock bottom (as they should have) and are on their way back up again. The engraftment is happening and new white blood cells are being produced at a steady rate--the factory is on-line. She might even be able to come home this week, so bang the drum! Daddy, me, and Middle Bro are hosing the parental house down so that her environment will be sparkling clean. Stay tuned.
Go out and conquer on this most magnificent Monday, everyone. :)
Most of the time, it would be the rich, thick burgundy of whole blood before an infusion, like this red delicious apple. Or between clear and straw-colored, like blood plasma. But occasionally it would be the color of Mama’s stem cells during her transplant, the freshest, most luscious vine-ripened tomato soup you could imagine, somewhere between my tote bag and my office chair. You stare at it hanging there on the stanchion, and you’re speechless because it looks so alive you could swear it’s moving all by itself rather than being urged by a machine. Watching Life flow into someone... I honestly cannot describe it.
What if life came inside wicker?
It would look like my engorged craft basket, of course. I finally took time to gather all the yarn from various bags and containers and leftover projects around the house, and put it all together to see what I was working with. I had NO idea there would be this much, folks. I love feeling yarn under my fingers as much as I do books, but what to do with all this? Make the relatives afghans for the holidays yet again? (OMG no) Open up a store? Make this monstrosity the villain of its own story, “The Yarn That Ate Atlanta”, and send it out on tour?
I pondered. Had an epiphany. Did research and came up with a game plan. Your dynastic one will be knitting as many under-helmet caps and off-duty slippers for our overseas troops as this basket of yarn will produce, then shipping ‘em out. Nothing says Life like an appreciative heart and a warm garment.
What if life were hot pink? (Don’t be like Middle Bro and ask do I mean Pepto Bismol)
It would look like our crepe myrtles that dumped pink snow drifts on everything early on, but are now happy to just look pretty. Come fall, the pink will be gone, as well as the green--the trees and bushes will be blazing gold. The circling seasons, the new becoming old and then new again... definitely that L word.
What if life were numbers?
Alternate Earth Fantasy Sequel WIP
Sci-Fi Adventure WIP
Dark Paranormal Romance WIP
Word counts. My characters living and breathing. Fighting, and surviving.
_______________
Familial Update: Eleven days out from the transplant, y’all, and we’re looking good. It’s no picnic--crazy swelling, darkened skin, flu-like symptoms, esophagitis (ouch!), lack of energy and appetite, nausea, fevers, a few transfusions, everything tasting like either cardboard, plaster, or somebody’s butt--but we did dodge two bullets. No hair loss. No mouth sores. (The church said Amen!) And the anti-nausea drugs work like a charm.
Mama’s counts have hit rock bottom (as they should have) and are on their way back up again. The engraftment is happening and new white blood cells are being produced at a steady rate--the factory is on-line. She might even be able to come home this week, so bang the drum! Daddy, me, and Middle Bro are hosing the parental house down so that her environment will be sparkling clean. Stay tuned.
Go out and conquer on this most magnificent Monday, everyone. :)